


Betrayal in the Culpa Mansion

by Star_Fata



Series: ML: Haunted Mansion AU [2]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Character Death, Haunted Mansion AU, Lila Rossi Bashing, Reincarnation, pre incarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-04 02:28:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 10,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21190064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_Fata/pseuds/Star_Fata
Summary: It should have been a night of joy in the Culpa Mansion, for its Master and his Bride.It was not. For among those who wished them joy had slipped a thief, who stole the life of one most precious to the Culpa heir. But the thief did not act alone… There were those who aided her, be it willingly or through incidental carelessness. All were guilty in the eyes of the bereaved groom- and thus, all were cursed.





	1. Prologue

It should have been a night of joy in the Culpa Mansion. There should have been dancing and laughter into the small hours as Felix Culpa and his bride relished in the company of well-wishers the night before their wedding. They should have gone to bed, giddy and gleeful for the next day to dawn, intending to arise late and marry in the village church before night fell.

It should have been the night before the rest of their lives began. 

It was not. For among those who wished them joy had slipped a thief, who stole the life of one most precious to the Culpa heir. But the thief did not act alone… There were those who aided her, be it willingly or through incidental carelessness. All were guilty in the eyes of the bereaved groom- and thus, all were cursed. Those whose faults were of ignorance to the thief’s presence were cursed with ill luck and upon their deaths returned to haunt the halls of mansion they had once enjoyed as guests. 

For those who aided the thief… They each earned their own reward.


	2. The Clerk

“Maxfield!” Delila Ross called, ignoring her maid as she waved at the young clerk. “I was just thinking of you! You aren’t too busy for me are you?” 

Maxfield smiled back at her and adjusted his glasses. “Never for you Miss Delilah. Is there anything in particular you needed me for?” 

Eyes as bright as Scheele green narrowed as she weighed his words. “Well, I wasn’t actually going to ask….” 

They spoke for a few moments, quietly. Not that anyone just casually passing by would hear- not with Delila’s spell keeping their words between them. Not even her maid would know what was said. 

Finally Maxfield shook his head. “I don’t know Miss Delila. I really want to help you, but this is a really good position for me, and I’m not likely to get another if Culpa lets me go with no references, which is really the best-case scenario if he gets wind of this.” 

“Ah Felix.” She sighed. “He really does have his father’s temper. It’s enough to make you wonder about those old rumours…” 

“Rumours?” Maxfield repeated curiously. 

“All nonsense.” Delila assured him. “Everyone in the Community back then heard them.” 

“I must not have been part of the Community back then, because I haven’t.” Maxfield said. 

“Of course you weren’t, it was before either of us were even born!” Delila laughed lightly, tossing her head. “A few people thought that perhaps Miss Emilie summoned a Fell Creature from the depths of hell to be her protector and sire her heir, after that maid died. The Culpa family Grimoire is said to have many such rituals, from when Felix’s grandfather did all that travelling.” 

Maxfield’s brow furrowed. “And you’re sure…?” He trailed off, not wanting to voice the question out loud. For all he professed to be an alchemist, there were parts of magic he truly struggled with. The existence of things he previously believed to be the product of primitive but imaginative minds was merely one drop in a bucket. 

“I know the Grimoire does had several rituals for summoning, I’ve seen them myself, but if Miss Emilie used one it wasn’t for a husband. Even if she was something of an ape leader at the time.” Delila smiled to take the cruelty out of her words- not that Maxfield took offence to Delila calling the late Emilie Culpa a spinster, she had been twenty-seven after all and hardly in her first bloom. 

No, of far greater importance was the treasure she had once seen. “The grimoire? You’ve seen it?” 

“Yes, back when Felix and I were courting.” She heaved a great sigh as she stared into the distance, where Culpa Mansion lay. “Before my dear parents and I left to attend to charitable endeavours and Bridgette quite stole his heart. Emilie showed it to me, so I’d know where it was once I became part of the family.” Quickly, Delila took out a handkerchief of white silk, dabbing at her teary eyes. “I wish I could show it to you Maxfield, it was lovely. Felix would never think of it, and as for Bridgette, sweet girl, I’m not sure he’s even shown her yet. She might not even think of you when he does.” 

Maxfield swallowed as he thought of it. A grimoire- a true grimoire, not just a collection of magical facts put down in ink- was something of a holy grail in magical studies, the contents passed down through teaching lines or, more often, familial ones. His master had only been able to pass on the very basics of alchemy, as that had been all he himself had learned. 

He’d known the Culpa family probably had one. He’d never thought it might be something he could see for himself- and if he, with all his vaunted intellect hadn’t thought of it, then Bridgette for all that she was indeed a very sweet girl certainly wouldn’t. Not even when her husband to be was teaching her magic, when once her greatest ambition had been to be a seamstress rather than serve as a kitchen maid. 

“Maybe you can.” He said, words dropping from his lips thoughtlessly. “After you’ve spoken to Bridgette, you can tell me where it is. I’ll get you the security plans, but I won’t be able to get you passed them myself.” 

Delila smiled, true joy lighting up her face and her eyes shining. “I’ll manage! I have so many friends who will gladly help me end the rift with Bridgette, I don’t know what I did to deserve all of you!” 

“You’ve helped us so much Delila. This is the least I can do for you in return.” Maxfield assured her, before taking his leave, thoughts whirling with possibility.


	3. The Preacher's Daughter

Delila settled herself neatly on the sofa, paying no attention to Alice’s less dignified sprawling across from her.  


“I see you have had as eventful a day as I have.” She noted, preparing her own tea. That was part of what Alice adored in Delila- she never fussed about Alice’s manners, or expected Alice to be the perfect hostess. She just- made herself at home.  


“The Preacher’s getting mad. Jael says if I don’t shape up soon, they’ll have to take ‘drastic measures’. Apparently I’m a bad example for the congregation.” Alice said, her tone full of venom.  


“Oh dear. Life is so unfair sometimes.” Delila frowned. “It’s hardly your fault your father’s a preacher, or that you were born a woman. I wish they’d stop punishing you for it.”  


Alice snorted. “You and I both Delila. But we both know there’s no hope for that happening anytime soon.”  


“Perhaps, perhaps not. I had an idea.” Delila said, smiling as Alice perked up.  


“I’m all ears.”  


“I could make a spell for you, to excuse you from society’s strictures- to make everything you do seem acceptable and unremarkable. I mean, I might take a bit of flack for it, that’s the kind of spell usually used by adulteresses wishing to avoid notice, but we are such good friends and you have suffered so…” Delila said, one hand playing with her dress.  


“I couldn’t ask you to do that Delila. You’re my friend.” Alice said, touched at the thought but not wishing to take advantage of the white witch. No matter how much she wanted that spell.  


Delila’s eyes met hers. “And you’re my friend too. And I can take a bit of scandal in exchange for your lasting happiness, what kind of friend wouldn’t?”  


The words, however sweet they were, struck a nerve. Bridgette hadn’t visited in weeks, after Alice had made an off-colour joke at Bridgette’s expense. It would have been fine, Bridgette hadn’t minded- but Felix had. Especially after Chloris Bourgeois had heard the joke and spread it around. The note Bridgette had sent had begged her pardon, but they couldn’t afford to encourage scandal this close to the wedding, and Bridgette spending time with Alice would give her joke more weight than would be wise.  


Nevertheless, Alice rallied. “And what kind of friend would I be if I asked you to?”  


“Perhaps…” Delilia said thoughtfully. “Perhaps we could make an exchange?”  


Alice grinned brightly. “Anything.” She promised.  


“I need to get into the Culpa Mansion the night of the ball, only Bridgette and Felix have barred me from the grounds.” Delila began, wringing her hands at the thought. “But I need to see Bridgette. Bad blood between a witch and a bride, no matter _which_ side the ill feeling is on, is a terrible thing to happen to a Community! I can’t let that happen. I need to settle things, before the wedding.”  
__

_ _Alice nodded, her heart going out to Delila. She’d known Bridgette for years, and sometimes she’d just get an idea into her head and stick with it, regardless of logic or sense. Witness how she still occasionally delivered drinks to Madame Malaura’s ‘Spirit Room’, even now the old bat was long dead.  
_ _

_ _“I can take you. Jael will want to drop off his latest acquisition, whatever it is. Father will want to be available in case anyone wants advice from a man of the cloth, so they’ll leave early and send the carriage back for me. We can smuggle you into the grounds, but I don’t know if that’ll work for the front door.”  
_ _

_ _“Don’t worry. I have an idea about how to get into the mansion- but you’ll really do this for me?” Delila asked, worry written across her face.  
_ _

_ _“For you and Bridgette both.” Alice swore._ _


	4. The Housemaid

Myrene had been very surprised to have Miss Ross seek her out- the lady had never been unkind to her, but as a housemaid and the daughter of a well-respected, wealthy gentleman, there simply hadn’t been much cause for the two to interact. Even if they did share an awareness about their shared Community.  


“Thank you for coming to see me Myrene.” Miss Ross said, settling into the park bench as if it was a luxurious loveseat. “I know you don’t have so many days off it would have been an easy decision to meet me on one of them.”  


Myrene’s gaze darted from Miss Ross to the distant flowers in the meadow. “I found myself curious, Madam, as to what you wanted from me.”  


Miss Ross’s smile was gentle. “Please, call me Delila. Would you like an iced bun? Bought them from the bakery myself.”  


“Thank you.” Myrene carefully took one of the buns and nibbled on it, just as Delila did the same. It was a beautiful day, and the tension left Myrene’s shoulders as she took in the sights. She could almost forget she was sat next to Miss Ross, and think she was next to one of her friends from the mansion.  


“I must admit I have an odd request to ask of you Myrene.” Miss Ross began, when Myrene had almost finished her bun. “And I hope you’ll hear me out to the end. I wish to end the feud between myself Bridgette on the night of the ball, and I need someone to get me through the door.”  


“Master Felix has banned you from the grounds- helping you into the mansion is grounds for dismissal!” Myrene spoke without thinking.  


“I know. But that'll only happen if we’re caught. And I really need to settle matters with Bridgette, but Felix has such a wrong idea of me that he’ll never let me speak to her without him looming over us and that would end up worse than not even trying to talk to Bridgette!” Miss Ross exclaimed, eyes wide as she half lunged forwards to grasp Myrene’s wrists. 

“I know he can be frightening, but he would never actually hurt anyone, and if he does dismiss you, even after Bridgette and I have settled things, I can find you and your fiancé new positions in my staff. Would you like to be a lady’s maid? I can get you training for that. Or would you prefer to be my personal secretary? Ian could easily be promoted in an area of his choice, wherever he would like.”  


What she was offering sounded too good to be true- but what she knew of Miss Ross assured her that she was always willing to help others, a true White Witch. Would it be so bad, to help her to help Bridgette? Miss Ross was right about Felix, he loomed after Bridgette like a dragon over treasure- eyes sharp, with claws at the ready to fend off any thief or an unwary wanderer trespassing on his sanctuary.  


“I don’t need a promotion.” Myrene said. “I won’t be able to help you Miss Ross; I’ll be too afraid!”  


“Afraid?” Miss Ross drew back slightly in surprise.  


“I always am! Especially when it’s most important. Even if I agreed to help you, I’d start thinking about it, and thinking and thinking until I was too scared of the dark to step out of the servants’ quarters! Too scared of Master Felix being angry at me! Too scared of...” She almost choked on the sob that burst from her throat.  


“I can fix that.” Miss Ross spoke quickly. Myrene looked up to see the taller lady’s face as firm as steel. “I can give you a charm that will leave you completely without fear. If you help me into the mansion.”  


Still crying, Myrene could only nod. She was surprised when Miss Ross ‘tsked’ and drew her into a hug. “There there Myrene. I’ll get started on the charm for you right away.”


	5. The Lady's Maid

Delila hadn’t needed to seek out Alma. Alma had shown up at the usual time, in the usual place- Delila’s front parlour, for tea on Alma’s one Saturday of the month off. Delila wasn’t ashamed to be friends with a servant- she would observe the proprieties, but she would also gladly invite her friends to tea. Not dinner, her father disapproved of her hosting dinners without him and would never sit to eat with someone he considered to be of a lower class, but a proper tea, with biscuits and sandwiches and good china.  


Alma never said how thankful she was to be treated as an equal by Delila- not even Bridgette could manage that so easily. Not since she’d gotten engaged to Felix and encouraged to familiarise herself with her new role as ‘Mistress of the estate’ by Allegra, who he’d all but hired as a new friend for her. Alma suppressed a snort at the thought, the estate had been without a Mistress for years, and had done just fine.  


“How is Mrs Boussey? I hope the problem with Bridgette has been resolved?” Delila asked delicately, pouring the cordial she’d had prepared especially by her housekeeping.  


“Not quite.” Alma huffed. “Bridgette got really out of shape over her changing the menu without consulting her. Which brought in Felix, huffing and puffing like the Big Bad Wolf, to ask if Mrs Boussey would prefer a different employer.” Mrs Boussey, the housekeeper, had done a brilliant job working for Felix, and she didn’t really need the direction from a newly raised housemaid to continue doing so. 

What Bridgette had planned for her first dinner party as Felix’s future wife wasn’t sophisticated enough for a dinner at Culpa Mansion, so Mrs Boussey had altered it, keeping in mind Delila’s generous advice. She hadn’t bothered Bridgette about it, not wishing to point out her flawed reasoning and hoping Bridgette was intelligent enough to realise why the menu had been changed herself.  


It was hardly Mrs Boussey’s fault she hadn’t known one of the guests disliked fish. Felix’s cousin Allegra had returned to the mansion shortly after, Felix wanting a proper companion for his future wife.  


“Oh dear. I hope Mrs Boussey isn’t struggling, what with Bridgette throwing her weight around.” Delila said, almost to herself as an afterthought. “I’m sure Bridgette will stop it once she’s settled into her proper place and doesn’t feel the need to prove it.”  


Alma smiled tightly. “I’m sure you’re right Delila. Hopefully after the wedding Bridgette will calm down.”  


Delila froze as if something occurred to her. “Ah yes, the wedding. That reminds me, I meant to ask you something about the ball the night before.”  


“Are you able to attend after all?” Alma asked excitedly. “We can hardly call if it a ball without our own society belle.”  


“You’re too kind Alma. Sadly, Felix still has the ridiculous ban on my entering the property. But, I have a plan.” Delila smiled slyly as she spoke. “And I’ll need your help Alma, if I’m to bury the hatchet with Bridgette.”  


Alma grinned in delight. “You have it.” She said. “Just let me know what to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So- Alma is a really biased narrator here. In order for Allegra to have arrived the next day she would have needed to be already on her way.


	6. The Housekeeper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fourth Chapter posted today! If you jumped to the latest chapter without checking, head back to chapter 2.

“Mrs Boussey?” A voice enquired from behind her on the street of Krypteyard. 

The housekeeper turned with a smile. “Good morning Miss Ross. How are you this day?” 

Miss Ross beamed back at her, rocking on her heels slightly. She was looking very well, with what looked to be a new hat from the city- she’d certainly not seen any in the local milliners with such an innovative design. “I’m very glad to have caught you Mrs Boussey. I was hoping to speak with you, if you have the time?” 

“Certainly.” Mrs Boussey replied warmly, gesturing for Miss Ross to walk with her. “I’m just running a few minor errands for the ball.” 

“Oh?” Miss Ross inquired. “Isn’t that a matter for your staff? You must be so busy with everything going on at the moment.” 

“You’re not wrong. But a change is as good as a rest, and a small change in scenery will refresh me for the tasks ahead. I won’t have much time to dawdle around in the coming days afterall.” Mrs Boussey agreed with Miss Ross, pleased that the young woman was aware she might be hard-pressed for time. Felix's dislike of Miss Ross completely baffled her, as she was so considerate. 

“Your attention to detail is admirable Mrs Boussey. The Culpa’s must appreciate it a great deal.” Miss Ross said, admiration in her tone as she watched the housekeeper confirm her orders. Most of them had been sent out when the ball was first planned, but it certainly never hurt to double check in person that everything was going well and they wouldn’t need to scramble for a last minute substitute. “Will you be participating in the decorating?” 

“Only in directing the staff in accordance with Bridgette’s wishes when she is unable to do so. It’s her first ball as hostess, so she wants everything in a particular way.” Mrs Boussey said, holding back a frown. Bridgette’s tastes were not what the late Mrs Emilie would have chosen, and it seemed a bit… impertinent of Bridgette, to choose to seek to distinguish herself as the new Mrs Culpa before she was even wed. Felix approved, but that boy sometimes took after his father all too much, with just as little care for society even as he performed the social niceties necessary for his position in it. 

“Oh. That’s a shame, I was hoping to ask a small favour of you.” Miss Ross pouted as her gaze fell to the ground. “But I wouldn’t wish for you to go out of your way…” She faltered. 

Mrs Boussey smiled at her to encourage her. “You won’t know unless you ask, Miss Ross.” 

Miss Ross bit her lip before acquiescing. “I was planning to send a floral arrangement to the happy couple, but my staff told me I shouldn’t bother since it would just end up in a back room somewhere. If I address it to you directly, could you perhaps place it in a side corridor somewhere? I would never presume to have it placed in the main rooms, not knowing if it would clash with the decorations, but perhaps it would be appreciated in the side corridor leading to the family suites? Next to the servants’ staircase, so more people could appreciate it? Or outside Bridgette’s current room, since you’ll have to have that cleared out in a few days and your staff might appreciate the greenery?” 

“That’s a beautiful thought Miss Ross.” Mrs Boussey said. “I’ll see to it personally. May I ask what you were planning to send?” 

“I suppose it’s more of a botanical arrangement. I arranged the plants with my own two hands, the main one being Ivy.” 

“For matrimony and friendship. How fitting.” Mrs Boussey approved, and Miss Ross beamed. 

“I’m so glad you think so Mrs Boussey! Hopefully you’ll still think so once you’ve laid eyes on it. I fear it won’t be one of my best creations, as ivy is so irritating to work with. In both senses of the word- I found myself with the beginning of a rash during my practice attempt. Doctor Celmont, from New York, advised me to apply chamomile tea compresses and wear gloves in future. I’ll pass that on to you, just in case.” 

Mrs Boussey waved a hand dismissively. “I’ll keep it in mind, but I’m sure I’ll be fine so long as I avoid touching the ivy directly.” 

The young lady nodded, beaming so brightly her eyes were open but a slit. “I’m sure you will be Mrs Boussey. You’re a very practical woman, to think of it!”


	7. A note from the Clerk

Delila was out, browsing the wares in the small haberdashery shop in the village when Maxfield found her. He presumed it was for her duties as a White Witch, as she, while as proficient as was required by any gently bred young woman was known to dislike sewing. 

“Delila, I’m glad I caught you.” He greeted. “I have a note for you from a friend.” 

Delila briefly glanced at it as she stowed it away in her bag, her smile brightening the room as she realised it was the locations and patrol plans of all the security guards Felix had hired for the protection of his new bride. “Thank you Maxfield. I have a note to send back, if you don’t mind waiting for me?” 

“Not at all Delila.” He said, turning to walk out. “I’ll just wait outside for you.” 

She was barely in the shop another minute, pressing a thin piece of paper into his hands as she left. “Just in case I can’t find you in the crush.” She said, sly as a fox as she winked at him. 

He opened it as soon as she’d left. 

_The location of the Culpa Grimoire is…___


	8. A Delivery for the Housekeeper

A full day before the wedding was to take place, the morning dawned bright and glorious. It was almost a shame for such a beautiful day to fall upon the Culpa Mansion, where so few had time to enjoy it. 

Mrs Boussey was certainly not one of those few and was therefore very thankful for the breather she had when Miss Ross’s delivery came. It was taken in by a man she had never seen before, in Miss Ross’s staff or otherwise. 

“Where do you want it?” He asked gruffly, almost looming over her. 

Mrs Boussey ignored him for a moment in order to properly admire the arrangement. It certainly wasn’t the most fashionable arrangement, nor one of Miss Ross’s best, but the sentiment was clear. The Ivy erupted from the centre like the spray of a fountain, twisted around the stake like the ribbons of Morris dancers, an image helped by the way the ivy was pulled almost taught from the top of the arrangement to various points along the edge of the pot. 

The white berries of mistletoe peeked out from around the earth the arrangement had been placed in, which was an odd choice in terms of floriography, but she supposed that was fading out of fashion nowadays. The entire arrangement was in a pleasing stoneware flowerpot, with elegant flowers in white and pink painted on the side. Bridgette’s favourite shade too, a bright pink just a shade too bold for an unmarried woman to wear. 

“I know the perfect place for it.” She declared, pleased with the gift. “Just follow me.” 

She personally escorted the gentleman to the second floor, placing the generous gift on a table between the servants’ staircase and the guest chamber Bridgette had occupied since the engagement had been announced, but as she needed to get back to her duties she had then had a footman escort the man out again. It wouldn’t do to allow a strange man to traipse around the mansion after all, today of all days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Floriography- according to my book.  
Ivy- Marriage, fidelity, friendship.  
Mistletoe- I overcome all obstacles.  
(Ivy an irritant if you tough the sap, some people more sensitive. Mistletoe berries poisonous, not usually lethally)  



	9. A Ride with the Preacher's Daughter

The night of the ball was a glorious full moon, shining down on every soul on the land below and lighting the way for every carriage on the road. 

Alice wasn’t sure if that was good luck, for the invited guests of the ball, or bad luck, for Delila. Delila, who was crouched on the floor in the corner of the carriage, so no one could see her through the carriage windows. It was good she’d avoided her signature colour, Alice absently noted. The dark green dress was much less noticeable, especially under her dark cloak. 

It had been difficult as it was, to get Delila into the carriage without the groom noticing. It would hopefully not be as difficult to get her out again- although Alice wouldn’t know. Her part of the plan ended before then. 

She shot Delila a quick look as they slowed down. “Five minutes.” Alice promised, grabbing her bag. “Then someone will help you to Myrene.” She shook the bag slightly, hearing the bottle inside slosh. “I’ll take the spell after the ball, so I can still play distraction if necessary.” 

Delila looked at her in surprise, but she didn’t have time to speak. The carriage had stopped, and the groom would be approaching to open the door. Alice beat him to it, jumping neatly down and letting the door swing shut behind her. 

“Alice!” Her father’s voice echoed in the quiet of the evening. “Must you make a mockery of me at every opportunity!” 

“Father, I was just leaving the carriage! I want to get to the ball faster.” 

“What if there had been mud? What if you’d caught your dress and torn it?” 

Alice didn’t know whether to curse or sigh as the groom stepped behind her to latch the door shut. At least her father hadn’t seen Delila- even if he was hauling her over the coals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit- 23/03/2020- Changed Delila's dress colour from grey to Green, and added a mention of her cloak.


	10. A hand from the Groom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fourth Chapter posted today- go back to chapter 7 if you skipped to the latest chapter! They're all quite short, but will get longer from here on out.

Delila smiled gratefully as he opened the carriage and helped her down. 

“This way.” Kimble whispered as quietly as he could. Huh, take that Alice! He could so be sneaky. Little preacher’s daughter would have to eat crow, if he could get Delila to Myrene without anyone noticing. It’d be a cinch! 

The carriage was parked outside the stables, the horses now settled within. Kimble lead her around the side and handed her a lantern. 

“I’ll be missed in the stables if I’m gone too long, so just follow the path around the side and Myrene will be waiting for you where the cobblestones end. There’s no branching off, so just stick to the path and you’ll be fine.” Kimble said, grinning. 

“I don’t know how to thank you Kimble.” Delila took the lantern with a smile, but her face crumpled as something occurred to her. “I didn’t ask this of you…” 

“It’ll be dandy. Alice told me you want to make things right, even though it’s absolutely not on you. Even if His Lordship objects to that, Bridgette won’t let him fire us. She grew up with most of us, still is one of us. She just wears fancier clothes now.” Kimble assured her, not wanting her to be worried. Or to start crying, that’d really be a nightmare. 

Delila nodded as her frown relaxed, much to his relief. The lantern lit her face as she held it aloft, but her eyes were obscured by the cloak's hood. “That is very perceptive of you Kimble, and I quite agree. Enjoy your evening.” 

“Enjoy the party Delila.” 

"Oh, don't worry." She said, her voice fading as she walked away. "I will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: 23.3.2020- Added a tiny bit about Delila's cloak hood.


	11. An escort from the Housemaid, an artist looks away

Myrene had been waiting, half frozen in fear, ever since she’d heard Alice Kubde had arrived. She’d practically flown from her post, grabbing the lantern she’d prepared earlier, just as she’d arranged with Kimble. 

It was dark, and even with the great house all aglow, lit up like a grand palace with finest beeswax candles and futuristic electric lights, even with the moon shining brightly, Myrene found herself squeaking at every rustle of the trees, and shaking at every distant sound that drifted ever closer on the wind. 

There were sounds of conversation, much closer than the others. She couldn’t quite hear the words, or even make out the people speaking, but then there was a sudden shout, quickly cut off. It had been a man- and Myrene knew only terror for an impossibly long moment. What had happened? 

She nearly screamed when she heard footsteps, barely managing to muffle the sound with her hand as a hooded figure left the trees. 

“Myrene?” A voice hissed. 

“Delila?” She nearly sobbed back. 

“Oh Myrene.” Delila’s voice was dripping sympathy. “You’ve been so brave. Here, your token of appreciation.” 

Myrene blinked back her fearful tears to see a simple pendant necklace, the chain long enough she could simply slip it over her head. 

Delila smiled pointedly and spoke firmly. “A charm, to eliminate fear.” She pressed it into Myrene’s shaky hands. 

As she put it over her head, Myrene’s nerves deserted her. 

Her shoulders fell back and her neck straightened as she met Delila’s eyes. “Follow me. We’re going through the basements.” 

Delila’s smile was as sharp as a knife. It might have scared her, before she put on the necklace- but that would have been foolishness. Delila was just… eager to help. 

“Was Kimble alright?” Myrene asked, leading Delila off the path and through the gate into the kitchen courtyard. “I thought I heard him shout.” 

Delila blinked, brushing her hair off her cheek. “You did? Dear me, no wonder you were so afraid. Yes, Kimble was fine when I left him. As enthusiastic as ever.” 

“That’s good.” Myrene said. “I think I was worried for him.” Was worry a type of fear? She couldn’t feel it anymore. 

“There was no need. But you’re a good friend to think of him.” 

Myrene strode through the service entrance without thinking- and very nearly crashed into the artist, Nathan. Well, she thought to herself. This could be awkward. 

“Nathan. I thought you’d be upstairs.” She said, trying to stand behind him and Delila. Unfortunately, her stature rendered this useless. Nathan looked passed her like she wasn’t even there. 

“Delila Ross?” He said in surprise. “Felix barred you from the grounds.” 

“I know, it’s such a horrible misunderstanding and I have to fix it.” Delila said tearfully. “I don’t want anyone to get in trouble, but I need to get upstairs, I just have to!” 

Nathan hesitated at the sight of a woman in tears, and Delila pounced. “Felix won’t give you into trouble if he doesn’t know you saw me, and if you turn around now, he won’t.” 

His eyes darted from Delila to Myrene and to the nearby stair, even as the rest of him was as stiff as a board. “I… I uh, I don’t think…” 

“Please. You know about magic, right? I’m a White Witch!” Delila pleaded with him. Myrene could have gasped at the bluntness of the confession. If Delila was wrong about Nathan knowing, they had a whole new problem on their hands. 

But as his shoulders relaxed it seemed she hadn’t been. It just showed how desperate she was, to take such a risk. 

“Really?” He asked Myrene. 

“Truly.” 

“Alright. I’ll just go to back to my studio, I’ve only got a few hours before dinner.” Nathan took Delila’s hand off his arm and went to do as he said. 

“Are you working on something time sensitive?” Delila asked, hand rummaging in her bag. “Or do you just want to avoid the throng?” 

Nathan blinked. “Both slightly. I’ve painted a portrait of Bridgette, and I'm hoping to finish it soon as an extra wedding gift. I'll probably have to keep working tomorrow, if I want them to have it before their wedding trip.” 

“Oh how sweet of you. Here, a token of my appreciation.” Delila smiled, removing a brooch from her coat- one of several she was wearing, Myrene noted. It shone virescently with her magic as she intoned over it. “The next painting you work on will make you famous.” 

Nathan took it delicately, admiring the way the amber jewel shone in the light. Or maybe he could see the magic? She knew some people could. 

“Thank you.” He said, smiling brightly as he lifted his head enough they could see both of his eyes.’ 

They left him in the hallway as the climbed the servants’ staircase, although Myrene chose to be more careful with the next doorway she walked through, before letting Delila know to follow through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit 23 March 2020- Added a tiny bit about Delila wearing her hood up. Also edited her gift to Nathan.


	12. Directions and Distraction from the Lady's maid

Myrene’s caution proved unnecessary, as Alma met them next to the first-floor doorway, all but glowing with excitement. “About time!” She chided. 

“I’m sorry for the delay, I ran into a few people who needed convincing.” Delila said, a sly smile on her lips. “Where’s our quarry tonight? I do hope I don’t have to hunt her down, I’m a terrible shot.” 

Alma raised an eyebrow. “Little off colour today Delila. Just a bit. But you’re in luck, Chloris was her usual self, and ‘accidentally’ ripped Bridgette’s dress. She’s gone to her rooms to fix it.” 

“How do I get there?” 

“I’ll lead you to the main stairs. You’ll go to the second floor; and take a left into the hallway rather than a right into the living hall. Go straight ahead, to the stairs. Bridgette’s room is dead ahead, but you’ll need the door with the strange handle- it’s shaped like a hand. Can’t miss it. Rosa and Julka were helping her, so you’ll have to convince them.” 

“I will get passed them. They’re sweet girls, they’ll understand.” Delila assured Alma. “No Allegra?” 

Alma shook her head. “She’s ill. Mrs Boussey gave her a new headache tonic from a physician in New York, but she reacted badly to it. They even called a doctor.” 

“Oh how terrible. Still, at least she won’t ruin the evening.” 

“There’s that.” Alma agreed. “Now, give me your coat and I’ll hang it up for you. I’ll get Nico to play a crowd pleaser as a distraction, wait until you hear it. The party is mostly contained between the banquet hall and the music room with a few people dawdling in the main hall, so we’ll just blend in. Felix is in the music room, so avoid that just in case.” 

It was a good plan. Once Delila left her coat with Alma, she was no different to any other guest at a distance. But if they wanted to be successful, Alma had to hurry, so she took the stair to the banquet hall’s orchestra platform as fast as she could. 

“Darling.” She whispered to her own fiancé, patting down her hair. She’d arrived in the quiet moment between songs. 

Nico took her in with a gentle smile on his lips. “Alma?” 

“I need a favour.” 

“Anything you want is yours if I can manage it.” Nico promised with a cheeky wink. Alma giggled, despite herself. 

“I need a distraction. A friend of mine needs to talk to Bridgette without Felix knowing.” 

Judging by the frown that formed on Nico’s brow, he’d accurately guessed just which friend it was. 

“_Alma_.” He said again, but this time his tone lacked the warmth of earlier. 

“Please, for me?” She pleaded. “I promise it’s a good thing. Cross my heart.” And she did just that, the somewhat childish gesture bringing the hint of a smile to Nico’s lips. 

He sighed dramatically, looking towards the ceiling. “The things I do for love.” He lamented melodramatically, bringing forth laughs from both his fiancée and the band.


	13. The Footman lets her pass

In the somewhat distant banquet hall drifted the sound of a lively reel played with great enthusiasm. Most people seemed drawn towards the music, the locals included. 

Of those still in the halls, the few who might see her either wouldn’t know of Felix’s edict or wouldn’t recognise her, simply assuming her to be another invited guest. Alma’s plan had been a good one. But it nearly fell to pieces, because Alma hadn’t known there was a footman in the entrance hall who would recognise Delila. 

Ian scowled as he set eyes on the woman in the dark green dress. “You shouldn’t be here.” He said bluntly, his infamous stone face in effect. 

“Really Ian? Don’t be so harsh.” Delila Ross scolded. 

Ian visibly flinched. “Master Felix…” He began. 

“Myrene is a sweet friend of mine.” Delila Ross explained. “And if you let me pass you, I won’t have to tell her how unsympathetic her future husband is.” 

Ian could feel his face fall at those words. His ‘intimidating visage’ as some of the gentlefolk called it, was the source of a lot of their early problems when they were courting. He’d learned to communicate better, and she wasn’t frightened of him anymore… 

But that was the key word, wasn’t it? She wasn’t frightened of him _Anymore_. 

He turned his head to the side, and shame rose as Delila Ross stepped neatly passed him with a murmur of thanks as she swept into the staircase hall and began her climb. 

Ian didn’t respond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very minor edit to chapter 11. Just Nathan's portrait of Bridgette is no longer in a wedding dress, realised that didn't really work, thought of something better.


	14. The Bridesmaid Tricked

Julka and Rose had helped Bridgette change into a new gown, putting the damaged one to the side for the seamstress to fix. Bridgette had asked for a little time to herself, touching up her hair. 

And so they had adjoined to the sitting room of Bridgette’s temporary chambers. Julka privately thought she’d have needed a moment or twenty to herself before changing, had Chloris been so foul to her. 

Rosa had agreed. “It’s a shame Chloris can’t just get over herself.” She said. “Maybe other people disagree with Felix’s choice, but she’s the only one making a spectacle of it. Bridgette comes off better in comparison.” 

“Bridgette doesn’t need the comparison to appear better. She and Felix are wonderful together.” Julka asserted. 

Rosa laughed. “I never said otherwise! Dear Julka. It should seem strange, for you to be so supportive of this marriage, especially when I know you once hoped to call Bridgette ‘sister’.” 

“But it isn’t?” Julka felt the need to check. 

“It was, but only before I realised how supportive Lukasz was. I find myself slightly surprised he isn’t a bridesmaid.” 

Julka smiled. “He has a different role to play. Maybe he’ll tell you about it when he gets here. I myself am surprised he hasn’t come to check on Bridgette himself.” 

“Perhaps you should go find him. He must not have heard Chloris’s actions yet.” Rosa suggested, and Julka found she had never loved the other woman more. 

She took Rosa’s hand in hers and kissed it, blushing slightly as she did so. Rosa called a sweet goodbye as Julka left the room to find her wayward sibling, the warm glow in her heart bringing a skip to her step. 

Julka found her smile desert her entirely when she found Delila Ross entering the hall, leaving her cold. 

“You shouldn’t be here.” 

“Julka!” Delila startled. “I thought you would be with Lukasz, helping him home!” 

Julka’s blood froze in her veins- why would Lukasz need help home? 

“I saw him in the garden. He didn’t seem well at all when I left him, but I simply couldn’t stay and treat him. I didn’t have suitable supplies.” Delila continued, rummaging in her reticule. “He let me have this to give to you if I saw you.” And with that, Delila took out an item Julka knew would never have left her brother’s wrist if he had been able. 

It was a simple bracelet, consisting of sturdy yet inexpensive beads on a black ribbon- and it was one of Lukasz’s prized possessions, having been made for him by Bridgette for his birthday. He rarely wore it for others to see, but he always had it in his pocket, and she had often seen his pat the pocket it rested in, drawing strength from the reminder. 

“Where was he?” She demanded, head racing as she snatched the precious item from the witch’s hands. 

“He was on the path between the stables and the servants’ courtyard.” Delila said immediately. 

“And you just left him?” Julka asked in disgust. “Did you hurt him?” 

“And just what do you think I could have done to him? Or for that matter, what I could have done to treat him without supplies?” Delila asked in a low voice, rage flashing across her doll like face. 

Julka swallowed. “Sorry. That was too far. Did you tell anyone else where he was?” 

“Myrene heard him, but she was too afraid to go look. I don’t know if she told anyone else.” Delila frowned. 

Myrene. Fright brought turned the usually upbeat maid into a stuttering mess, from both the fear and the shame. Julka wouldn’t bet on her having helped Lukasz, nor on her having admitted anything. Especially not if she knew someone else already knew he was there. 

“You will take me to him.” She said, heart in her mouth. “Now.” 

“I can’t, I need to see Bridgette!” 

“You shouldn’t even be in the Mansion, and you know it. I won’t tell anyone, if you lead me to Lukasz.” 

“Lukasz let me walk straight past him.” Delila informed her. “Or do you really think there’s anything I could do to make him let me pass him by, injured or not, if he thought I was here to upset Bridgette?” 

_Injured?_

Delila sighed sympathetically as Julka’s eyes closed to ward off tears. “Here. I forgot I had this.” She said, handing over a whistle bracelet. “Go check on Lukasz. Just in case no one else is there, you’ll be able to call for help without leaving him.” 

Julka couldn’t speak, her throat closed on the sobs she didn’t have time for. She took the whistle with only a moment of hesitation, and ran, with no care as to who saw her. 

_Please be alright Lukasz. Please. I’m coming._


	15. The Bridesmaid Convinced

Rosa had, as Julka left, gently cradled her hand to her chest as she sighed dreamily. She had spent quite a few moments staring into the air, enjoying the feeling that Julka’s affection brought out in her. If Bridgette made Felix feel even slightly similar, it was no wonder he’d ‘disgraced himself’ by marrying down. 

Who wouldn’t, for such a love? 

The sound of a knock at the door snapped her back to reality, and she opened it with a beatific smile that quickly faltered at the sight of Delila Ross with a bouquet made mostly of white lillies and bright pink rhododendrons in her hands. 

“Good evening Rosa.” 

“Good evening.” Rosa replied automatically. “Why are you here?” 

Delila gestured with her bouquet. “I wanted to make a few things clear with Bridgette. It’ll just take a moment, and then we’ll never cross paths again.” 

“You’re leaving.” 

“Nothing as drastic as that.” Delila’s smile was quicksilver, appearing and disappearing in a breath. “There are easier ways to avoid seeing a person. But I need to talk with her first. Clean the slate and all that, for a new start.” 

“Things won’t work that way Delila.” Rosa’s voice was quiet but firm. “No matter what you say, the mistakes made won’t allow a clean slate.” 

“Then the only way is forward, regardless of those mistakes or who made them.” Delila’s hands tightened around the bouquet, knuckles white. 

“Please Rosa. I need to see Bridgette. Privately.” 

They stood in silence for an impossibly long moment, tension building in the air, before Rosa sighed. “I’ll be back in five minutes. You won’t have a single second more with Bridgette, or I will call all the men Felix has working tonight to escort you out.” 

“I won’t need any longer than that. Thank you so much Rosa!” Delila was so grateful her somewhat strained smile transformed into a Cheshire grin. “Thank you so much.” 

“Five minutes.” Rosa reminded her, stepping out of the sitting room into the hallway, the door wide open behind her. 

Her stomach turned as the door shut- but what could she have done? She couldn’t have just turned away Delila, after all she’d done for the town, no matter what Felix would have to say about it. Bridgette would understand, she always did, and things would work out. Delila would accept Felix and Bridgette didn’t want to see her and would avoid them both from now on. Things would get better, when people didn’t feel they had to choose sides. 

But she still felt awful about it. Taking a deep breath, too anxious to stand still, she began to pace the corridor. Or, she had intended to pace the corridor, but had seen the mess of the planter. It looked like the stake had been removed, and whoever had taken it, for whatever reason, had cut the ivy off to do so. 

The flora in the plain white planter was a complete disaster. Rosa almost smiled as she set to work, trying to hide the worst of the mess. She made a note to tell housekeeping about it, so it could be replaced before the bride woke up the next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Floriography according to my book
> 
> Rhododendron- Ambition, danger, Beware  
White lilies- Purity and sweetness, purity and beauty.  
Rhododendron and lilies both toxic. Avoid ingesting.


	16. A Surprising Conspirator

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Third Chapter for today!

Chloris tossed her head, causing her meticulously arranged curls to catch the light- and no few eyes. It had been a satisfying evening, so far. For what it was, attending the celebration of one of the country’s most eligible bachelors deciding to marry his maid. 

She had arrived, late enough that all eyes had been on her golden gown as she moved through the crowd. She had gone straight to her hostess, her footman right behind her with the gift. 

Bridgette had seen her coming, and so she’d had the pleasure of seeing the upstart visibly steel herself in order to maintain basic civilities.

A true lady would never have been so transparent- but she had kindly not pointed that out. Surely, many many other people would be happy to do so, if this farce of a marriage went forward. 

_If_ it did. 

With a smile that outshone all the electric lights in the Mansion, Chloris had greeted her hostess. 

“Bridgitte! That is such a darling shade of pink. You must have spent all night on that dress.” 

“Not at all, although I’m flattered you think me so skilled with a needle. This is from Brodeur’s in the city. They do such marvellous work, don’t you agree?” 

“Quite.” Chloris acquiesced. “Although they are a very new boutique, I’m sure they’ll build up a suitably elegant clientele in time, if that’s the standard they’re capable of.” 

Bridgette’s smile didn’t fall, but Chloris could see it thin slightly as she pressed her lips together. Barely supressing a smirk, she continued. “Anyway, I just came here to give you my gift.” 

“Oh? Surely it could have been left with the others in the side room?” 

“But I just had to deliver it in person!” Chloris tittered; ostrich feather fan spread to hide the malicious smile on her lips. She jerked her head- and her footman stepped forward, pressing the plant into Bridgette’s hands. Bridgette was forced to use both hands to prevent it from clattering to the ground. 

“You are too much, Chloris.” Bridgette said flatly- before she’d even had a proper look at it. 

She glanced down to see a common mint plant in a pretty but heavy planter, and Chloris had the joy of seeing the rage in her eyes. She tried to hide it when she spoke but failed miserably. “Why Chloris, you must have put so much thought into this gift! You shouldn’t have.” 

Chloris’s smile was as sweet as syrup. Take my advice. She thought. And _find a spouse of your own background_. 

“It’s been all over the village how you’d been stressing about the ball. Why, I heard you were personally making sure every ribbon was as you requested.” She said aloud, watching Bridgette’s knuckles turn white. “And I wanted a reminder for you, not to make such a to-do over the small things.” 

“This is in many ways my first ball as Mistress of this house.” Bridgette replied, tone even. “Is it so surprising I want everything to be perfect?” 

Chloris nearly snarled, and only the memory of Delila’s visit to her a few days earlier stopped her. 

“_You and both know that she has no place pretending to be the Mistress of Culpa manor. She should be darning the grooms socks or sweeping the ash from the fireplace or making soap for the laundry. Felix is completely under her spell. Lost to all sense and reason._” 

Instead of rising to the bait, she smiled insincerely and made her excuses to walk away. 

_“I have a plan to free him.”_

It wasn’t that much later that she saw Alice Kubde arrive, already in trouble with her dull-as-dirt Preacher father.

Remembering Delila’s plan, Chloris nodded to Sabina. Sabina glanced at her pocket watch, and fifteen minutes later stepped forward with a whisper. 

“It’s time.” 

_“If you can make sure she has to duck away for a few minutes, where Felix can’t hover over her, I guarantee I will show her the error of her ways. I will make her realise exactly how unsuitable she is to preside over Culpa Mansion. I will personally ensure that Bridgette Cheng will never marry Felix Culpa.”_

Chloris sought out Bridgette again- this time, she approached from behind so her prey couldn’t see her. Brigette was talking with Ed Jagger, a wealthy man with no land but with steadily growing fame as a composer and musician. He beamed at her in an avuncular manner, as the conversation turned to something Chloris was uninterested in. 

“Penninah often travelled with her father. If you’d like, I can introduce you and you can trade tales of the road.” Bridgette said, already stepping forward. 

It gave Chloris her opportunity. She raised her leg, and deliberately caught her heel in the back of Bridgette’s dress. 

The tearing sound seemed to silence the banquet hall, even as the music continued to play. 

“Oh!” She gasped, perfectly manicured hand flying to her mouth. “I am so sorry Bridgitte. Accept my apologies.” 

Bridgette’s answering nod was tight, her cheeks flushed with fury. Her bridesmaids, the Polish wallflower and the blonde who wore ridiculous amounts of pink, swarmed towards her, a cape hastily borrowed from somewhere to protect her modesty. 

Chloris received a few dirty looks but shrugged them off in order to return to enjoying the party. She’d done her part. 

It was less than a half hour later she saw a familiar silhouette in an unfashionable cape slinking down the main staircase and begin crossing the reception hall. 

The outspoken Lady’s maid, Ama Cedar or whatever her name was, was ready to meet her with a coat in hand. 

“Wow. Someone is sure of their position.” She said snidely. 

Sabina followed her eyes. “They’ve clearly never heard of subtlety.” Her friend remarked, rolling her eyes. They shared a laugh. 

“I think I’d better go speak to the man of the hour.” Chloris thought out loud, passing her clutch to Sabina who took it in hand without question. “I only spoke to the maid earlier.” 

The one downside of size of the Culpa Mansion, she mused, was the difficulty inherent in finding someone you really needed to speak to. She had planned to go from the entrance hall to the music room, hoping he’d still be there – but she thankfully saw Felix in the gallery as she was passing, discussing something with one of his staff. 

“Feli-bear!” She greeted, the underling scurrying away as she approached. “Isn’t this your lovely bride’s job? Is she slacking in her duties already?” 

The dark haired man next to him- an actor or something, one of the ‘creatives’ Felix delighted in inviting to parties and to stay in the mansion rent free in addition to paying them for their services- put a casual hand on Felix’s shoulder and murmured something she couldn’t quite hear. Whatever it was, Felix took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before acknowledging her- how rude. Clearly his bride had made him forget his manners. 

“Normally it would be, Miss Bourgeois. But I understand your run-in with my wife-to-be has put her somewhat behind.” Felix explained. 

Chloris made a disapproving sound, eyeing the staff as they worked. “Is your housekeeper so incompetent you couldn’t trust her? I understand not trusting that other maid, given I saw her with Ross’s coat.” 

Felix froze. “Ross?” Chloris opened her mouth to tell him about it, but he was tearing out of the gallery and towards the stairs regardless of anyone in his way. 

Chloris smirked as he went. If Ross thought she could have Culpa Mansion after this, she was demented.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 23 March 2020- changed Delila's dress colour.  
Flora's Dictionary  
Mint- homeliness. Homely virtue. Wisdom. Eternal refreshment. "Find a spouse of your own age and background". "Don't make such a to-do about small things".  
Mint- Grief (Holstein)


	17. A Classy Exit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fourth Chapter Today! I think. Double check if you recognise the titles before reading, I've been in a hurry to finish.

Delila rushed down the staircase as calmly as she could, trying not to draw attention while wearing a cape. 

The cape, Alma had to admit, she was confused about. She was holding Delila’s coat in her hands after all, while the cape was a plain affair intended for extra warmth for the groundskeeper's staff in foul weather. 

“Hey. Are things alright?” She enquired. 

Delila’s smile was- odd. Jittery, almost, her eyes wide open and she appeared feverish, especially with her hair dishevelled. “Everything is absolutely fine. Alma. Dear, sweet Alma.” 

Alma blatantly eyed the cape, hoping for an explanation. 

“You can keep the coat. My dress is completely ruined, and I’d rather just go home than try and salvage it.” 

“_Ruined?_” Alma said in surprise. What did Brigette do? 

Delila’s smile was almost unnerving. “It’s fine. Everything is settled, the feud between she and I has most definitely been ended. No more fighting. We, uhh.. we _buried_ the hatchet."

Delila barely suppressed a giggle before she continued. "Felix will probably need a few days to get over his temper tantrum over my being here without his permission, but I’m certain he will be amenable to ah, _renewing_ our connection. In due time, of course.” 

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, almost shuddering as she let it out. She was more settled once her eyes opened. “Thank you, Alma. I really couldn’t have done this without your help.” 

“Hey, what are friends for?” Alma said rhetorically, flushed with pleasure. 

There was a commotion behind Delila, and Felix could be seen running for the stairs. 

“My carriage is waiting.” Delila said abruptly. “Good night Alma.” 

“Good night!” Alma called after Delila’s departing back. She shook her head, examining her new coat for a moment. She didn’t know how Bridgette had ruined Delila’s dress, but clearly Delila wasn’t holding it against her. And it was a nice coat. 

It all turned out for the best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: 23 March 2020. Added a bit to Delila's dialogue.


	18. Felix

Felix had just hit the top step when he heard the sound of a whistle outside. He could hear the murmur of the party drift up, concern spreading. 

He paid it no mind, bolting down the hallway to the rooms he’d given to Bridgette when she had become more than a companion to his family. He was relieved to see the door shut, and slowed his steps as he approached. The magic of that particular handle, the reason he’d fetched it out of storage in order to use for Bridgette’s rooms, was that it detected ill intent from anyone who grasped the hand in order to twist it. Anyone with ill intent who touched that handle would find themselves falling very, very ill. It was simple, but it worked. 

He opened the door and saw Rosa on the sofa. 

“Bridgette asked for a moment alone.” She said, from where she had been putting some stray ivy leaves in amongst the flowers. “But she was ready when she asked us to wait.” 

“And Julka?” 

Rosa frowned and glanced out the window, where the whistle had been. “She went to look for her brother.” 

He nodded at her, gesturing to the door in dismissal. Rosa brightened, and with an unnecessary curtsey, darted out the door. 

Felix shook his head at her exuberance. Then walked to the doorway into Bridgette’s current bedchamber. 

He knocked at the door, but there was no answer. He couldn’t hear anything inside- in fact, he deliberately reached out with his magic only to find nothing. 

Not even breathing. 

The door was flung open, and it unfolded like a nightmare before him. 

He hadn’t even set eyes on Bridgette when he sensed her magic- the usually playful sparkle turned sharp as her needles, intent on survival and desperate to live. There was another magic, clinging to the walls, holding sound and secrets inside the bedchamber, a whispered command for those outside not take note of the inside, and not to trespass the boundaries of the magic. A whisper of malice, not any spell but a single thought woven through and slicing at what remained of Bridgette’s- a snarl, _Get Out of My Way_! 

The remains of a bouquet scattered carelessly on the ground, some crushed in the struggle. Others glinted with bright red droplets. 

A bloody hatchet abandoned on the ground. 

Bridgette’s favourite hat pin clenched in her hand as a weapon, blood on the spike. 

And Bridgette- beloved, joyful Bridgette- _gone_. 

He fell to his knees beside her, gently touching the hat pin she clutched- proof she had fought to live. That she had wounded her killer. 

The curse he cast was wordless, the kind that can only be cast when a heart is torn asunder and rationality thrown aside in grief. When the pain inside deafens and blinds a being to the consequences, assures them that any price would be worth paying in order to see a measure of justice. 

It ripped from him with a scream of anguish. 

_That the Witch whose blood Bridgette had shed in her attempt to live, would never be at peace._

_That she would always know the consequences of her actions were chasing her, and that she would never know rest or joy until she had faced Judgement for her actions_. 

_That any who had aided her in trespassing on his home would face judgement along with her, that he would know them for who and what they were_. 

_That all those in the mansion who could have seen and didn’t would be as lost and without hope as he was_. 

His scream, it was said, could be heard for miles around.


	19. A Witch's Flight

Delila smiled as her curricle sped along the driveway, certain she’d made her escape. No one would point the finger her way, her spells would ensure that, just as their own guilt would keep their lips shut. 

Afterall, she had been banned from the grounds. If they had seen her, and not alerted anyone, then they too were guilty. 

People could be such fools. 

She sighed, glancing at the brooches attached to her ruined dress. They were now the only magic she had left to her, now that she’d used her power to strike down an innocent. The rules of magic, like many other rules, were foolish and inconvenient. Had Bridgette truly been an innocent, she would never have risen to the heights she had. 

Still, between seeing that upstart seamstress become Mistress of the Culpa Mansion and losing her powers, she would have ripped the magic from her soul every time. 

Happily, she glanced back at the mansion where she would one day be Mistress. It was only a matter of time. 

Her face fell as she laid eyes on the mansion, the stars in the sky above vanishing into a spreading blackness. A blackness she could no longer sense, but knew of from tales told to her since childhood by her fool of a mother, of the darkest magics in the world. 

A _Curse_. A curse to hunt and kill and rend, of vengeance and grief and destruction. 

She had miscalculated. It appeared that someone in that house truly did care for that little maid, someone with enough magical power to call upon the High Magic to seek retribution for her loss. She hadn't thought that with the Krypte woman poisoned there was anyone of sufficient magical power who could, not unless Felix... 

But how could he have done this unless he actually cared about Bridgette? That was _impossible_, she knew what his father was! He couldn't have cared about his little pet enough to have called the _ High Magic_. 

Impossible or not, the blackness was reaching for her. 

Whipping to her driver, she screamed at him. “FASTER!”


	20. Epilogue

The Groom’s heart was lost that night, it is said. No longer could he look upon the people in his household and see friends, for he could not see past the night he had lost his beloved. 

To those who knew of his magic, it seemed the curse he had cast had ripped the heart from him. 

He had at first aided the investigation with hopes that the Bride’s murderer would be caught and brought to justice. However, despite the evidence of a struggle, the Sheriff ruled it a suicide, stating that the Bride had found herself unable to cope with the realities of her new position. The Reverend of the Church in Krypteyard, which the Bride had attended the majority of her life, denied her burial on consecrated ground as a result of the investigation, despite the community outcry. 

The Bride was buried in a wedding dress in the Culpa Mansion's graveyard, in the Krypte family tomb. The private funeral was presided over by the reverend’s son and the Groom’s man of business. The pall bearers included her father, the man who would have been her father-in-law, and her fiancé. There were few mourners permitted to the ceremony outside of family, with the notable exception of her former beau, who had been badly wounded while attempting to escort the witch from the premises the night of the ball. 

Devastated by his loss, the Master of the Mansion locked himself away in the home he had hoped to share with the love of his life. 

It was then it was said that he decided the curse he had cast upon finding his bride was insufficient. 

Heartbroken, lost, with justice obstructed and the search for Brigette’s murderer forsaken, his allies damaged and surrounded by traitors, he decided that if he could not have justice, he would have vengeance. 

All those who aided the witch and received reward lay dead within months. 

Those who saw her and looked away perished within the decade. 

The Witch herself escaped, inadvertently aided by those who wished a quick resolution to the case, regardless of the truth of the matter. Having fled the continent, it’s said she travelled the world in her desperate flight from the vengeance of the Master of Culpa Mansion. 

As for those who were mere bystanders to the tragedy- a curse of the kind Master Culpa cast that night is not just for those with bloody hands. It was for those with guilty consciences, those who wished they had seen and been able to help. Those who wished the bride had seen her wedding day were drawn back to the site of the tragedy upon death, to haunt the halls and keep her bereaved groom company, until such time as she returned. 

For that was his price for the curse. Until the Witch had been caught and faced judgement, until all those aided her faced judgement with her,until all those trapped in the Mansion were freed, the Groom could know no joy or rest. He would wait, with them, until the Witch was caught, or his love returned.


End file.
